Bud Chambers leveled the SIG Sauer 228 at them. His hands were encased in latex gloves. The weapon was graphite colored, accurate, and reliable. It could be chambered to nine millimeter or.40 caliber, but what did that matter right then? As Will remembered, it was a favored semiautomatic of the feds and could hold fourteen rounds. Chambers wore green scrubs, a white lab coat, even a hospital ID card clipped to his left pocket. His shoes were covered with the kind of footlets they wore in surgery. The better to avoid tracking blood, perhaps. He had been hiding in the same dead space behind the inward-opening door where Will had stayed that day when he had snuck behind Dodds into the office.
Somehow, deep in the premonitory brain cells that told him something was stalking him long before the tumor came, somehow he always knew it would end this way.
“Ah, ah, ah!” Chambers flexed the semiautomatic at Dodds, holding it in both hands. “Don’t even think about it, fat man. You!” He cocked his head at Cheryl Beth. “Reach in his coat and get his gun, and do it slowly.”
The room was crushed with still silence.
“No,” she said.
“You’d be amazed how soundproof this room is,” Chambers said, pulling his thick eyebrows into a dark overhang above his eyes. “Nobody’s going to hear you. The hospital’s shut down by the ice. Don’t try to be a hero, honey.”
Cheryl Beth spoke in a quavering voice. “Fuck off.”
Chambers took two quick steps and his left hand flashed toward her face, instantly sprawling her over the desk. She let out a cry and Will tried to raise himself out of the chair.
“Sit down, cripple.” He spoke without taking his glance or gun off Dodds. “I’ll take that.” He grabbed Josh Barnett’s card out of Will’s hand, glanced at it, and slid it into his pants pocket. “What a fucking little moron.” His gun arm stiffened and he snarled at Cheryl Beth. “Now get that goddamned gun!”
“Just do what he says,” Dodds said quietly.
She pushed herself up and reached into Dodds holster, pulling out his Smith & Wesson nine. Her left cheek was bright red. “Slow,” Chambers commanded. “Now hold it by the barrel and hand it to me. Thank you.” He stepped back, placing Dodds’ weapon on the bookshelf against the far wall.
“Now get the backup piece on his ankle.”
Will groaned inside. The bastard was too thorough. Cheryl Beth knelt and retrieved the five-round.38 Chief’s Special from the ankle holster on Dodds’ right leg. Chambers repeated his move, placing it on the shelf beside the larger semiauto.
“Stand up. Up!”
Dodds slowly stood. Chambers ordered Cheryl Beth to take the handcuffs from Dodds’ belt and shackle his hands behind him. She did it slowly, glancing at Will. He wished he knew what to telegraph to her. He wished he knew how. The handcuffs clicked into place.
“Back up to me, Dodds.” The big man slowly complied and Chambers used his left hand to ratchet the cuffs tight. Will watched as Dodds’ temples and mouth reacted. “There,” Chambers said, a smile creasing his puffy face. “That’s the way I like ’em with dangerous Negroes, nice and snug. Now go sit again.” Dodds eased into the chair. “Lean back, get your feet off the floor. If your feet touch the floor, I’ll kill you.”
Chambers turned the gun on Will now. He had never been on the receiving end of a gun barrel without having a weapon in his hand. His insides felt as if they were liquefying.
“Now just because I don’t trust the cripple, and he’s so dressed up and all, I want you to open his coat and pull up his pants legs to make sure he’s not packing.” Cheryl Beth complied. Will wished his service weapon hadn’t been locked away. He would have pulled it long before now.
“You’re always in the way, Borders,” Chambers said, gesticulating with his free hand. With the gloves, he looked like a malevolent clown or a cartoon character. “This was going to be a simple plan tonight. Just tie up a few loose ends with Detective Dodds and the pain nurse here, and I’d be gone. Two birds, one stone. Once again, you’ve mucked it up.”
Will’s brain was a riot: every rampaging channel of training, thought, and instinct asking how to get out of this. How to play for time.
“Where were we?” Chambers said. “Oh, yes. You were about to tell these fine ossifers why you lied about being in the bar with Christine.”
Cheryl Beth stared at him, almost in a daze.
“Sit down,” he ordered, and she slid against the wall between Will’s wheelchair and Dodds. He aimed at Dodds. “Keep your feet up!” To Cheryl Beth, “Why were you there?”
“I ran into her!” Cheryl Beth set her jaw and Will could see moisture forming in her eyes. “I didn’t plan it. I got off work and wanted a drink. I went inside and she came up to me. She wanted to talk. So we got a table.”
“What did she want to talk about?” Chambers said, his voice impatient.
“Gary.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Gary and I…”
“I know all about you, Cheryl.” Chambers slid the pistol into his lab coat, its outline falling heavily into the pocket. “I’ve watched you. I’ve been in your house. I’ve been in your fucking underwear drawer. You ought to buy more black. I know you stopped seeing Gary months ago, so she didn’t want you for that. She had plenty of her own distractions. She didn’t give a damn about his.”
“She wanted to know what it was like between us,” Cheryl Beth said. “She wanted graphic details. I thought she was very drunk and very distraught, and I just tried to calm her down.”
“Bullshit!” As he shouted, she jumped.
In a quiet voice, he said, “This is just business. Tell me what I want to know and everybody gets out alive.”
“There’s nothing to tell!” Tears were tracking down her cheeks now and her voice broke. “Christine seemed very upset, but not at me. She was all over the place. I’d never seen her like that.”
“What did she say about the hospital?”
“Nothing.”
He ripped her up from the floor, delivering a brutal open-handed blow to her face. Then he shoved her down to the floor. She rose on her haunches and charged him.
“You son of a bitch!” Her fist connected with his nose before he got hold of her. He pushed her hard into the wall and she slid to the floor.
“A little fighter.” Chambers used the sleeve of his lab coat to wipe the trickle of blood from his nose. “Get your hands off her, Sir Galahad.” Will had reached out to touch Cheryl Beth. He slowly pulled his hand back into the confines of the wheelchair.
Chambers loomed over her. “She talked to you! She gave you something!”
“No.”
“She did. She gave you something before she came back to the hospital.”
“She didn’t! And don’t you think you’ve made me cry, you bastard. I cry when I’m mad!”
“What did she give you?”
“Nothing.”
“Where is it?”
“What?” she yelled in frustration.
“Have it your way.” Chambers pulled out the gun and approached Will. He felt the steel against his temple. It was smooth and surprisingly warm.
“Don’t hurt him!” she said. “You want to know what she did that night? You really want to know? She said she was afraid she might lose her job and she didn’t know who to talk to. But then she slid next to me and held me, crying. But then she kissed me. She had her hands all over me and kissed me, told me she wanted me to come home with her, she didn’t want to be alone. I freaked out and left. That’s what happened. When she left word for me later, I was afraid she was going to start all over again.”
Chambers seemed momentarily confused. “Well, I’ll take you with me and we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other and talk. I’ll find out where you put it.”
Dodds said, “It’s all over, Chambers. We know everything. We have a warrant on you. We know about the cabin at Rabbit Hash. Make it easy on yourself.”
Chambers gave a low chuckle, the dimple in his chin deepening. “Spoken like a true professional. But you don’t know much of anything.” He laughed louder this time, watching the gun as if it would share his mirth. “You know what? They told me I wasn’t smart enough to be a detective. That’s what the bastards said. But here I have the two supposedly best detectives in the Cincinnati Police, and you’ve been five steps behind me all the way…”
“So you killed Christine,” Will said, “just like you killed the others.”
“Now you’re only four steps behind.”
“But Christine was a hit,” Will said.
Chambers stared at him, unsure of whether to put away the gun again. He kept it in his hand but let his arm fall. Will continued, “It’s ‘just business,’ you said. You were paid to kill Dr. Lustig. You framed Judd Mason. But since you’ve always been a narcissistic fuckup, Marion, you couldn’t do a simple job. You had to imitate what happened on Mount Adams. You think you’re an artist. You had to give this one your signature strokes, right, Marion?”
Chambers’ right cheek twitched at the mention of his given name.
“You wanted to get back at us, get back at me,” Will said. “You killed two women to cover up the murder of your ex-wife. You took their ring fingers as trophies. You killed Christine for money, but you didn’t close the loop.” He fought to control his fear, make his voice speak in a slow disdain. The deep anger he felt made it possible. “Marion, Marion… Something’s still out there and your masters want you to get it.”
Chambers leaned casually against the wall near the door. “I have the right to remain silent.”
“It’s about SoftChartZ,” Cheryl Beth said. “That’s it. Josh Barnett gave me his business card tonight. He wrote a little note on the back. It’s the same handwriting that was on the threatening note I saw with Judd Mason.”
“You’re pretty good, honey,” Chambers said. “The software is hopeless. They can’t make it work, and when that comes out the company is done.”
Will said, “SoftChartZ needed the continued cash flow coming in from the hospital while they were frantically trying to debug the software. They needed this to look like a success, so they could win contracts from other hospitals, keep it going.”
Chambers clapped very slowly. “Very good, Detective Borders. Why else would their stock be a hundred dollars a share? All these morons buying into the future of digital medicine. My ass. The lady doctor realized it was a sham and she was going to go public. They had a problem and wanted somebody to solve it. Good old Berkowitz told Barnett to talk to me. Berkowitz just thought they needed help with a security breach.”
“Kind of funny,” Will said. “The software company hired a hit man with a bug inside his fucked-up hard drive.”
The low chuckle rumbled out of Chambers’ chest again. “They offered to pay me in stock. I took cash, and it’ll be offshore waiting for me. Unfortunately, they’re pretty sure the doc made a copy of some incriminating documents and gave them to someone for safekeeping. Obviously I’ve got to get them back to get paid. What are you doing, Borders?”
“It’s hot.” Will undid his necktie and tossed it to the floor. He didn’t want Chambers to use it later to choke him. Chambers wasn’t paying attention. He returned to the shelf, put down the SIG and retrieved Dodds’ nine millimeter Smith & Wesson.
“Do be comfortable,” he said. His tongue flicked out of his mouth. “I lied. I wanted the two of you down here tonight so I could kill old Dodds here. You know how many cops eat their service weapons. The despair of the job and all that. And I was going to take a little road trip with Cheryl here and get the information I need. Hell, if I was in the mood, I was going to stop by your room,” he looked at Will, “and smother you with a pillow. Sleep apnea’s a real problem. Then I’d be free and clear. It was all going to be nice and neat, no loose ends. Mason would still be in jail for killing the lady doctor. But you had to show up again, Borders.”
Will fought back the panic smashing against his chest. “I just have an asshole detector and have to follow it, Marion.” Chambers glared at him with hate, his eyelid nervously fluttered, and suddenly Will felt a strange calm inside himself.
“After I take care of Dodds and handcuff Cheryl, you and I are going to settle up,” Chambers said. “This will be pleasure, not business.”
He strode to Dodds, chambered a round in the pistol and, using the gloved clown hand, brought it up to his temple. At that instant, Will used every molecule of his adrenaline to launch himself out of the chair. With a sharp exhale, he shot straight out toward Chambers, who desperately tried to re-aim the gun at Will. But they were now too close. Will’s legs started to give way-damned legs, damned spinal cord!-but not before he fired a savage uppercut with the heel of his hand.
It connected with the base of Chambers’ jaw with a snap and bony crunch, and he lurched backward onto the floor. The nine came out of his hand and slid all the way to the door. Will fell forward like a bag of potatoes, breaking his fall with his hands. He fought to disentangle himself from the footrests of the wheelchair. He relied on his strong right leg, using his right foot as a hook to catch the left and pull it free. Then he was flat on his belly, trying to crawl an eternal distance to the gun.
“Will, watch out!” Dodds yelled. Chambers was on his hands and knees, slowly shaking his head. Then he stood and advanced on Will. “I’m gonna kill you,” he slurred. His shadow was over Will when glass shattered. Chambers wobbled to the side. Cheryl Beth had grabbed the Tiffany lamp from the desk and struck his head. But it was not enough. He delivered a brutal backhand and Cheryl Beth careened into the wall, hitting her head. Her eyes were closed and she didn’t move.
Pain exploded in Will’s side and a second later another kick came. Bright lights flashed around the edges of his eyes…he thought he was going to throw up. He fought to breathe. The foot came again and Will deflected it, getting the surgical footlet in his hand. Then his scalp erupted in fire. Chambers pulled him up by his hair and smashed him in the eye. He went momentarily blind, felt dizzy, and his cheek and eye socket burned in agony. Something felt loose in his face. Chambers was cut and bleeding from the lamp. The look in his eyes was the devil’s, the last look those women saw, that Theresa saw.
He picked up Will and shoved him into a cabinet. Another cascade of pain blasted through his back. Will was showered by a mass of used needles and other medical flotsam. The red hazmat disposal box had come down on him and split open. He tried to get to his knees, every joint aflame, but Chambers kicked him again. Will fell backward into the footrests of the wheelchair and he was trapped. Chambers spun wildly around, as if another adversary might appear. Then his eyes focused on the floor in front of Will.
“Goddamn.” He bent down, pushed aside the spent needles and picked up a computer disk. He looked as if he had discovered buried treasure. “This is where she hid it.” He stood and glanced back at Will. “I’m done now.”
He put the disk in his pocket and his right hand changed to metal.
“He’s got brass knuckles!” Dodds yelled, trying to stand. Chambers slashed toward his face and Dodds collapsed back into the chair, then toppled to the floor.
Chambers turned to Will. “You’re not good enough to use a knife on. Now you’re gonna pay.”
He only needed two steps forward to start dismantling every bone in Will’s skull. It was just enough time.
Will twisted, screaming in agony. He fought to keep from passing out as he found the fanny pack attached to the side of the wheelchair and inside it the smooth, slim steel cargo he sought. He turned back just in time. As Chambers started to swing his fist in a wide haymaker, Will pressed the button on the switchblade. One second later he plunged the blade into Chambers’ right thigh.
The man emitted a sharp scream and tried to retreat. But Will now had hold of his leg, and as Chambers tried to step back, he carried Will with him. Will slammed and twisted the knife into the muscle, found bone, brought another shriek. Chambers fell on his back and Will climbed up him as if scaling a deadly escarpment. Will’s left leg was thirty pounds of dead weight, cramping. Chambers flailed with his brass-knuckled fist but Will grabbed his wrist, twisting it as hard as he could. The knuckles fell out with a clank. He held both Chambers’ hands to the cold floor.
Will felt the body under him writhing madly. Veins now standing out in his forehead, Chambers strained to use his good leg to push himself toward the door, toward the gun. His other leg spasmed ineffectually. The pasty skin of Chambers’ face reddened deeper every second. Will slid across his torso and smashed his right fist into Chambers’ nose, spewing blood like a fireworks burst.
“Kind of hard to move, cripple,” Will hissed, “now that things are a little more even between us.” He rammed his fist again into Chambers’ right eye, drawing more blood. “You like to hurt women, don’t you, Marion?” Will didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice. He reached behind him, twisting the knife again, and the room was filled with a sound as if an animal was being tortured. “How’s it feel to pick on somebody your own size, cripple?”
Chambers spat a viscous mix of blood and mucus into Will’s eyes and freed one fist long enough to connect with his jaw. Will wobbled, dizzy, but couldn’t be easily dislodged. Yet in an instant, Chambers’ hands were around his throat, trying to crush his windpipe. The room tilted before Will put his fists together, made a V with his lower arms, and rammed them into Chambers’ grip, breaking it.
He pulled in sweet air and his hands now found Chambers’ throat. He slammed his head against the floor and dug into the soft, warm flesh of the murderer’s neck, connecting with the harder tissue of his windpipe.
“Will Borders, don’t you dare kill him!”
It was Cheryl Beth, shouting at him. “You’ve been given the gift of life, and don’t you dare throw it away over him, over the past.”
Will stared into Chambers’ eyes, rage meeting rage, his fingers turning into a vise.
“You have a life to live, damn you!” He felt her on his back, trying to pull him off. “People need you!” Then her soft hand touched his cheek. “I need you.”
As if a spell had lifted, he released Chambers’ throat and heard him gasp for air. He lay unconscious but breathing.
Will fell backward onto the floor, and Cheryl Beth held him. “I got you. It’s going to be all right now…all right.”
He reached for her, brushing aside her soft light-brown hair, gently caressing around the scratches and bruises on her lovely face. “For you, too, Cheryl Beth,” he said.
“When you two kids are done with this sentimental crap, would somebody mind un-cuffing me?”
Will looked over and Dodds was awake, wiggling himself upright.
In a moment, they helped Will into the wheelchair. He was a mess and everything hurt. On a scale of one to ten, his pain was a ten.
He felt fine.